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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476048">at play, at large</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42'>Meatball42</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamlet - Shakespeare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Shovel Talk, attempts were made</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:46:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to a firestorm.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hamlet &amp; Laertes (Hamlet)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Global NYE Drabble Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>at play, at large</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/gifts">Small_Hobbit</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They knew each other in their youth, Laertes and Hamlet, and had no quarrels of note. Yet when Hamlet’s love for Laertes’ sister bloomed, so did the fear in the lower noble’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not play games,” Laertes hissed under the music at a line dance. “She is not some court filly to be led here and there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hamlet knew the pedigree of every woman with whom he spoke. He did not require reminding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Ophelia so easily led?” he murmured back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire in Laertes’ eyes was not enough to burn down Denmark, and so it was easily forgotten.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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